


tangled in the willows

by fitzefitcher



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Blushing, Cunnilingus, F/F, Just gals being pals, Making Out, Massage, Mutual Masturbation, Set during Cataclysm, jaina is a gay mess in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzefitcher/pseuds/fitzefitcher
Summary: She turns red all the way down to her collarbone, the freckles dotting her skin becoming lost in it. Aggra thinks she can get her to blush deeper, if she tries. She thinks Jaina would be very pretty, if she did.





	tangled in the willows

**Author's Note:**

> from anonymous, a writing prompt based around jaina/aggra and the sentence “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”  
> loosely inspired by the songs "gooey" by glass animals and "pynk" by janelle monae
> 
> blushy jaina is best jaina

Azeroth is about as big a shitshow as Greatmother Geyah had made it out to be.

Aggra had thought perhaps that Thrall had been exaggerating when he’d said the elements were losing their minds and lashing out at everything that moved, because hell, even the ones on Outland had never reached that level of sheer panic, but nope, they’re every bit of batshit nuts as he had described them to be. Though, she supposes that’s about right, considering that Azeroth’s denizens seem to be about the same level of batshit. She’d squinted at him, when he’d said they’d been in a state of more-or-less continuous war for the past thirty-odd years, but uh, apparently that was true, too, even in the face of the planet destroying itself. Which was. Baffling, to say the least. But it explained why Thrall came over to Outland for help, because the planet may be in pieces but at least the elements didn’t collectively lose their shit all at once. Nor did its denizens ignore literally everything in the face of what was frankly a stupid, pointless war.

So here she was in… Hyjal, she thinks? It’s a massive fuck-off tree with massive fuck-off roots over some kind of magic lake. She would probably appreciate the beauty of it better if it wasn’t currently on fire. But again, that’s why she’s here. She had been excited to come, at first, but upon arriving soon understood why Thrall and Geyah were a little reluctant to let her. Still, she’s here, and she’s helping, like she said she would be.

Soon into this venture, she had met one of Thrall’s friends, a human witch named Jaina Proudmoore. She’d shown up to help, too, calling up water elementals with ease to help put out the flames. Aggra had been wary of this at first, taking note of its shackles, but Jaina had been quick to assure her that those were just to help stabilize the summoning, and that it was there of its own free will. Apparently, witches- mages, rather, they seemed to take offense when referred to as witches even though that’s literally what they were- anyway, mages made it a habit of making contracts with a single elemental and then using that one’s services indefinitely, rather than ask for the aid of any of the local nature spirits. Which was. Weird, but she supposed that was fine, so long as it worked. Jaina’s weird, but nice.

Thrall had seemed particularly excited about introducing them, which Aggra is a little wary of, especially since Jaina could hardly get a word out without stuttering or laughing nervously. She took one look at Aggra, and her eyes went wide and her face did this thing where it abruptly started turning pink, at the tips of her ears and the high points of her cheekbones. That was weird, too. But Jaina’s turned out alright thus far, helping whenever she can. She and Thrall are pretty similar, and seem to like a lot of the same things- Aggra can see why they’re friends. She doesn’t truly understand why Thrall had made it a point of introducing them until later, however.

They’ve been there a few weeks, and they’ve just about finished putting out the majority of the fires. Ragnaros and the cult of flame seem to have pulled back, for now, so all that was left to do was clean up. That mostly amounted to clearing away rubble, as well as fallen trees and the like. This turns out to be more physically involving than Aggra was expecting. She’s used to hard work, sure, and can go hours without stopping, but the thing about hard physical labor is that it’s just that- hard physical labor. And after a few days of this, Aggra is feeling pretty sore.

Enter Jaina, who’d been particularly keen on befriending her, despite her own apparent nervousness around Aggra.

“You okay?” she asks from behind her, coming from nowhere, it seemed. Aggra is sitting on a fallen log a little ways off from the area she’d been clearing out, attempting to stretch out her shoulder. She’s almost certain she’s pulled a muscle; it’s very tender and profoundly uncomfortable to move it, even a little bit. True to form, Jaina’s ears are a little pink, and she can’t quite meet Aggra’s eyes, but she tries.

“I think I wrenched my shoulder,” Aggra grouses. She goes back to trying to stretch it, and unsurprisingly, it hurts exactly the same amount as before. Jaina bites her lip nervously; it leaves it a little rosier than before, Aggra notes.

“Maybe I could help?” Jaina offers, somehow managing to sound casual. Aggra nods at her, expectant.

“Do you…” She starts, and then stops. It doesn’t inspire confidence. “Well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

Aggra blinks at her. Jaina’s completely red in a flash.

“I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” she says hastily. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but just thought I’d throw it out there. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Jaina is red down to her neck, now. Aggra wasn’t aware she could do that. It’s a lot more endearing than she thought it would be.

She’s right- they haven’t really known each other that long, but. Aggra finds that the offer isn’t as offensive as Jaina seems to think it is.

“Alright,” Aggra says. Jaina’s eyes go wide.

“Really?” she asks. It sounds more like a wheeze.

“You offered,” Aggra points out. Jaina closes her eyes, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance at herself.

“Right, yes, I did,” she says, to no one in particular. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay, moving on.” Jaina settles next to her on the log, nudging her to sit sideways for better access.

“You let me know if I do anything that hurts you,” Jaina tells her.

“Do you not know what you’re doing?” Aggra asks.

“Yes, I know what I’m doing,” Jaina insists, huffing. Then she puts her hands on her, and yes, she knows exactly what she’s doing.

Jaina’s hands are firm and warm, and she starts by gently touching around her shoulder to see where it’s the tenderest. Then, she carefully works the tension out, leaving Aggra’s shoulder a little sore, but much, much better than what it was previously. She then proceeds to work on her other shoulder, unprompted, and Aggra makes no move to stop her.

“Just making sure you’re alright over here, too,” Jaina says, a little hasty to justify herself. “Things like this can really sneak up on you if you’re not careful.”

“Hm,” Aggra replies, relaxed. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble at all, really,” Jaina assures her. “I actually learned to do this while I was in school, at Dalaran.”

“You went to Dalaran to learn how to do this?” Aggra asks, teasing. Jaina sputters.

“That’s not what I-” She cuts herself off, sighing. “Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.”

“Where did you learn how to do this?” Aggra asks, still laughing a little but genuinely interested, all the same.

“A friend taught me,” Jaina explains. “We studied together a lot, and it was easy to lose track of how long we were working. Suddenly, it’d be four hours later and you didn’t realize that your neck was at a weird angle until it was too late.” Aggra hums agreeably.

“Meditation can go that way, too, if you’re not careful,” she says, empathizing. “You go in there thinking it won’t take you long at all to work something out with the elements and then you don’t end up coming out until half a day later.”

“That’s a little excessive,” Jaina replies. Aggra can’t see her face but she can practically hear her brow furrowing from voice alone.

“Don’t I know it,” Aggra says. “And yet somehow the elementals on Outland are still more mild-mannered than the ones over here, and Outland is maybe half a planet that’s mostly on fire.”

“Yeah,” Jaina sighs, tired. She starts to work down Aggra’s back, then stops. “Oh sorry, force of habit- we can be done now, if you want. I don’t want to keep you from your work.” She withdraws her hands, but doesn’t leave just yet, hesitating. Aggra mulls it over for a moment.

“No, it’s alright,” she says. “You can keep going, if you’re up for it. I still have time.”

“If you’re sure,” Jaina confirms, supposedly unsure of herself but her hands are back too quickly for that to seem sincere.

“I’m sure,” Aggra says.

\---

Afterwards, Jaina warms up to her a bit more- or at least is a little less shy around her. They work together frequently during the day, now, and Jaina usually seeks her out afterwards to chat with her and generally keep her company. It’s nice, though at first Aggra thought she was only seeking out Thrall, and she’d just happened to be there when it happened. But one day, Thrall has to work something out with Malfurion Stormrage- probably something to do with the fire lord’s inevitable return, she’s sure- so they head out with a mixed group of shamans and druids to investigate the land, and don’t come back for almost a week. Jaina still comes, still seeks her out, and is somehow surprised that Aggra’s surprised.

“I’m coming to see _you_ ,” she asserts. “I see Thrall all the time. I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you after this. I want to make the most of it.” She seems to realize the gravity of what she said and recoils a little, turning pink. “If you’ll forgive my boldness,” she adds, bashful.

“Not at all,” Aggra tells her. “I like it.” Jaina turns pinker, and Aggra likes that, too. She wonders, idly, how far down it goes.

Jaina renews her offer at the end of each day, too; Aggra doesn’t necessarily need it, but it feels nice, and she’s offering, so there wasn’t any harm in it. The mage becomes bolder here, too, steadily working her way farther and farther down Aggra’s back with each session. She doesn’t really stop to wonder what her intentions are, exactly, until the day comes that Jaina reaches the small of her back, and presses her thumbs into two points just above the waistline of her kilt that leaves the nerves there feeling like a livewire. She works slowly and deliberately, and Aggra doesn’t think to stop her, doesn’t think of much else beyond her hands there, fingers around her waist and the pads of her thumbs working the flesh there into aching tenderness. It’s a good ache, it’s one that leaves Aggra strangely hungry, and she doesn’t quite realize how much it’s affecting her until a small moan leaves her mouth.

She can hear Jaina swallow audibly, and this only makes her hungrier.

“Sorry,” Jaina says, embarrassed. She pulls her hands back like Aggra burned her. “Sorry, it was just automatic, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’ll stop-”

“You didn’t,” Aggra interrupts, turning to look at her. Jaina’s not looking much better, herself, flushed and breathing a little funny. She’s worried her bottom lip into a red that reminds Aggra of cherries, a little wet and a little shiny.

“Do _you_ want to stop?” she asks, to be sure.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to,” Jaina says huffily. Aggra raises her eyebrows at her.

“So you _do_ want to, then?” she asks, turning it around on her. Jaina does not appreciate this.

_“Yes,”_ she grinds out. She turns red all the way down to her collarbone, the freckles dotting her skin becoming lost in it. Aggra thinks she can get her to blush deeper, if she tries. She thinks Jaina would be very pretty, if she did.

“You tell me when to stop, then,” Aggra says, and slowly closes the distance between them.

She gives Jaina plenty of time to react, or push her away, but she doesn’t, so Aggra takes her mouth in her own and kisses gently. Jaina reciprocates eagerly, presumed hesitance gone in an instant, and Aggra laughs a little into her mouth. Aggra pulls her closer, hands on her waist, and Jaina seems to like this very much, arching into her touch and bringing her hands up to grip Aggra’s shoulders. Aggra tightens her grasp, and there’s a sharp intake of air from Jaina, barely heard and felt only briefly between kisses, but Aggra caught it just the same, the sound shooting through her and leaving her with a pleased, warm sort of desire.

It has the intended effect; Jaina becomes bolder still, curiously probing at Aggra’s bottom lip with her tongue. Aggra allows her entrance, and Jaina presses their mouths together again, exploring with the same sort of eagerness as she had before. Encouraged, she cups Aggra’s breasts in each hand, and softly kneads through her vest. She steadily works up the strength of her grip until she gets to a point where she has Aggra’s breath stuttering in her lungs and stays there, and Aggra can feel her smiling into the kiss.

Aggra pulls away from her mouth (taking a moment to relish the bee-stung pink Jaina’s lips have become), and instead focuses on her neck, pressing little kisses onto the side of her neck. Jaina laughs a little, ticklish, but soon Aggra has her reciprocating in kind, breath short and heartbeat fluttering against her tongue as she laves Jaina’s neck with just a hint of teeth. Aggra presses a little harder with her fangs, not enough to break skin but perhaps enough to leave a mark, and certainly enough for her to feel Jaina’s pulse spike. This distracts Jaina away from her kneading, and she forgoes it entirely in favor of wrapping her arms around Aggra once more, palms pressed along her spine.

Aggra begins to run a hand up and down Jaina’s thigh, starting on the outer side and slowly moving inwards. When she pauses meaningfully, fingers barely an inch away from the warmth emanating from between Jaina’s legs, she hears another sharp inhale, and Jaina opens up for her. She lets Jaina guide her hand, pressing her fingers to the center of that warmth. Aggra rubs her through her skirts, taking her sweet time as does, and soon she has Jaina mewling under her touch. Jaina is trying so hard to suppress the sounds coming from her own mouth, but she can’t manage it, not quite, and Aggra’s heart swells with a voracious sort of affection. She’s so cute like this, so sweet- all trembling and flushed, so easy to pick on. It only makes Aggra want to pick on her more.

She moves from her neck back to her lips, and Jaina is quick to catch her, needy, and Aggra is all too happy to drink in every mewl, every moan, every gasp that Jaina gives her. But soon, too soon, Jaina clings to her hard and shudders and shakes, and the cry that comes from her is something that Aggra will treasure for some time to come. Jaina’s trembling slows, and she breathes heavily.

“Did you just…?” Aggra asks, trailing off. There’s nothing mean about it- she’s playful as can be, maybe just a bit surprised. Jaina groans, embarrassed, and hides her face in the nape of Aggra’s neck.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “It’s- it’s been a while, so-”

“It’s alright,” Aggra chuckles. “I don’t mind. It’s cute.” Jaina huffs.

“No, it’s-” she starts. Huffs again. “It’s not fair to you. Let me just-” She gets up, stumbling a little, but still manages to kneel herself in front of Aggra, between her knees. She has one hand on each leg, attempting to push them apart but softly, asking permission.

“Let me return the favor,” she says, pupils blown out, skin still flushed, hands still trembling. Her hair is mussed, lips reddened, and the marks Aggra left on her neck have begun to bloom in earnest. How could she say no to that?

She nods, and Jaina peels back the layers of her kilt until she reaches the bare flesh underneath. Aggra knows she’s wet; she’s been wet since Jaina had started this in the first place. But this is somehow still a surprise to Jaina, who swallows audibly at the sight, and moves closer until she’s a mere breath away, looking up to Aggra for permission yet again.

“Go ahead,” Aggra tells her, and she does.

She starts off shy again, but curious, trailing her tongue through the delicate folds and nose pressed close against the thatch of dark hair just above. She gains confidence slowly but surely, and seems keen to explore every inch of her. Time becomes meaningless- Jaina works at an agonizingly slow pace, building her up and up and up but not leading her to her peak, not just yet. Aggra is fucking _dying,_ but Jaina pays her no mind, content to keep her just shy of it for as long as she sees fit.

It isn’t until she reduces Aggra to a similar state that the orc had had her, flushed and trembling and gasping, that Jaina deems to release her from this torture. She does away with any remaining sense of pretense and goes after the dark, rosy bud nestled in the folds, viciously circling it with her tongue until Aggra is seeing stars.

Afterwards, Aggra cups Jaina’s jaw with her hand, and gently leads her back up, kissing her. Her eyes go soft with warmth, which is good because that means it had the intended effect and will serve as a good buffer to Aggra asking:

“Did you learn that while you in school, too?”

Jaina snorts and pushes away from her, having fun but not wanting to admit it.

“Maybe,” she replies, coy. “Not on _purpose.”_

“But you did,” Aggra presses.

“Yes,” Jaina allows, laughing. “I did.”


End file.
